Living With the Dead: The Hungry Land (24 page)

The rest of us that decided to abide by the social contract we have all agreed on are stuck having to suck it up and deal with this situation. They're completely right--we can't afford an extended loss of that many workers. That's especially true considering how many more people we'll have to send out far and wide to hunt now that one of our farms is basically gone. We need a concerted effort by everyone if there's to be the slightest chance for us to keep going as a community. 

And anyway, how in the world could we punish so many? I don't see a way. I also don't see how we could pick one or two of the people that started this mess and make them scapegoats for the whole group. That smacks of the way things were done in the world that was. In the here and now the expectation is that each individual is responsible for their own actions. 

That's why this is so galling for the rest of us. If one person breaks the rules we've set up, minimal as they are, then that person has to deal with the consequences. If it weren't for the lack of violence between our citizens, I'd be tempted to call this a civil war or, to use the favored buzz word of the Bush administration, an insurgency. 

When the people who went hunting the zombies made it back here late Saturday, there were a lot of hard looks and pointed silences. They knew how the rest of us felt, which was abandoned, betrayed, and left wondering how many of them would make it back. The hunters were mostly composed of people that were left here at the compound during the occupation by the Richmond soldiers, so I suppose now we know how they felt when those of us that were able to escape did so. 

I've had this pointed out to me by several of those who left Saturday. Smugly. 

So, here's my response to the arrogant fuckers who want to act as though it was just your turn to leave:

We didn't escape the compound in a fit of anger. Yes, your rage was justified, but your commitment to protect the living should have been stronger than your desire to avenge the dead. If you left the compound on Saturday with the hunting party and you feel absolutely no guilt about doing so, then I hope with all of my heart that you leave this place. Soon.

You know what? Fuck that. I'm not going to play nice with people who used the death of children to justify blowing off some steam, because the truth is that they put all the rest of the children at risk by going. So let me tell you how I really feel. If you left the compound and don't feel guilty, I hope you die. If there isn't the slightest shred of you that feels at least a tiny bit bad that you shirked your responsibilities, then we don't need you here. The human race will certainly be better off without your lack of contribution to it. In my mind, the only difference between you and a marauder is a matter of timing. 

This might seem harsh, but I don't really care. I know many of the people that left, and I know them to be good souls overall. I imagine that most of the folks who left feel bad to one degree or another that they caused so many problems and left us undefended in some areas. I know that they feel justified in what they did, and that such a feeling doesn't preclude them feeling bad about doing it. 

I don't know how things are going to look in the near future. Grim, from what I'm seeing right now. Difficult probably doesn't begin to describe it. I hope to see more penitence than is currently on display. I don't think anyone here is without sin, nor would any in the compound fail to understand the urge to do something you felt was right knowing that it could be seen as cruel or dangerous. 

We need a dialog here, but I stand strong for what I've said: there has to be some sign of guilt. There has to be an admission of wrongdoing, because otherwise that means that they didn't feel like putting the rest of us in mortal danger was wrong. 

That's just not acceptable. 

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Living On the Edge

Posted by Josh Guess

I'm going to be straight with you here and say that I don't know how things are going to play out here in the next few days and weeks. I don't know that I will be able to post regularly, but I'm going to try. It's important to me that I be able to relate as much of what is happening as possible, for good or ill. The zombie plagues has taken so much from us, but I hope more than anything that this blog helps teach others what to do to make their communities work, and what to avoid. 

The council is meeting for most of the day. My schedule has been cleared so that I can join them, and we'll be bringing in several people outside the actual council itself to help give us input on the current situation. That situation being the sudden loss of one of our farms and most of the food it produced, the refusal of more than a third of our citizens to exercise caution in the face of endangering their fellow citizens, and the tension almost everyone is feeling with the impending rationing of food. 

How to meet these challenges, what to do to rebuild confidence, and many other aspects of the problems we face will all be up for discussion. We've got a very small window to work with since we've got a large store of food to keep us going, but we'll be running a high deficit of what we eat to what we actually produce. If the situation isn't solved somehow before very long, we'll be facing fall and winter with no stores. 

That isn't a viable option. 

On short rations, we'll start to face big problems long before that. We'll grow weak and slow, work will suffer as a result, and productivity will go down. Which will just make the problems worse in a vicious cycle. That's ignoring the huge problem we'll face with zombies that are just as numerous and strong as ever, while we're at our worst. 

I know, its not a very nice prediction, but it's about the most realistic scenario my staff and I were able to come up with. Short rations means everyone will be on a thousand calorie diet at best, and even that will use up our stores within six weeks. Then we'll be down only to what we can hunt and get from the other farms. 

We're on the cusp of an enormous cliff here, and the drop doesn't look all that promising.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Zero Sum Game

Posted by Josh Guess

Nothing, nada, nil, zilch.
That is exactly how much progress we've managed to make. The council meeting yesterday only served to confirm the reality we're facing: we can't do anything to the people who left the compound over the weekend.
Oh, but I can tell you one new piece of news: they've unionized. I hate to put it that way, since I was always supportive of unions before the zombie apocalypse said a hungry hello and made them irrelevant.
And they've even got a name. They're referring to their group as the "Homesteaders" which sounds like a bad 1970's western to me. They picked that name because almost all of them were caught at the compound when the Richmond soldiers invaded and had to stay here during the occupation.
So, the homesteaders have reaffirmed their assertion that they simply won't let anyone hold them responsible for their exodus. That sucks, but isn't surprising. The good news is that as a group they are way more nervous about the rationing we'll have to do with our food, and have offered to send out teams of volunteers as hunting parties during their free hours. They've even taken on the herculean task of arranging to have other members of the group cover the shifts of the hunters should they be unable to return to the compound in time for work.
This sounds like progress, I know. But it isn't, really.
These folks have made these decisions unilaterally, without any input or communication with the other people in the compound. To me, it's just another sign that they see themselves as different. They see their group as special or better or something that the rest of the compound and the council are not. They don't seem to think that the rest of us can solve our problems, or that we haven't been working on solutions.
Oh, and did I mention they aren't even giving us a choice in regards to what they plan? While I appreciate the intent and the effort they're putting in, they only informed us of their plans to keep the walls guarded. They didn't want to repeat the mistake they made last week by not providing for the safety of our population. The zombies have been especially thick outside the walls in the last few days, though they have cleverly been staying just out of bow shot..
I dislike being dictated to. The idea that a group of people who did so much to endanger our people should be allowed to create and execute their own policies without even asking is frankly a bunch of bullshit. If they hadn't at least had the consideration to make sure the schedules were covered, I think the situation would be a lot worse.
Ultimately, we need them to do this. That's the truth. We need people willing to put in extra hours out in the field hunting if we're to have a snowball's chance of keeping our people from starving. I've always said that pragmatism wins out in the end, and this is about as pragmatic as it gets. Without the homesteader volunteers, I don't know that we could survive.
Granted, we didn't get a chance to ask the general population to try the same thing. Maybe there would have been enough people volunteering to make the difference. We'll never know, since the issue has been forced.
For now, it'll have to do.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

One Family

Posted by Josh Guess

I've mentioned before how much of a fan I am of a novel that came out a couple of years before The Fall, called "The Name of the Wind", by Patrick Rothfuss.
I mention it here because the main character is from a social group of people that live constantly on the road, traveling from town to town in performing troupes. The greeting from one group of them to another is "One Family", a reference to the cohesive sense of belonging that all of their social group feel for one another, regardless of blood. It's always stuck out in my mind as an interesting way for a society to function, and given that the bond between them is so strong partly due to centuries of tragedy and persecution, an understandable one.
You'd think that the same mentality would apply to people in general now. We've seen ample evidence over the last year plus that such an expectation is, in the immortal words of Albus Dumbledore, "optimistic to the point of foolishness". All of us have seen marauders murder, rape, and pillage. We've all seen groups of survivors that are otherwise reasonable people refuse to help one another in times of tragedy. The sense of brotherhood (and sisterhood, I'm no sexist) you'd hope to feel is there, but far from universal.
The particular problem that prompted me to write today (it seems that lately it's always a problem that does the trick, instead of good news) is that our newcomers from Tennessee are having some trouble adapting to the compound. Since they got here right as so many things went wrong, the place seems overly hostile to them. It doesn't at all help that the homesteaders are either ignoring them or actively being assholes to them, a few demanding that each newcomer put in time on the wall.
Now, that's just absurd. Many of the women that made it here from Tennessee are pregnant, yet a few hardcore homesteaders STILL want them to do guard or sentry duty on the wall. Seriously.
Naturally, that's out of the question. A few of them actually did agree to go, but we've got policies around here about pregnant women being within feet of flesh-hungry undead monsters. Call us crazy, but it seems stupid to risk the lives of two people that way, you know?
I'd like to see a little more unity, especially since every single person in this place was once a newcomer with the exception of me and Jess. Some of them, like Pat, Little David, Allison, Elizabeth, and a few others, have been here almost since the beginning. Others came during hard times, or when we didn't have a lot to spare. No one came to the compound during a time when it was easy or simple for us to take them in. There has been no period of utopia.
It isn't the fault of the newcomers that they've arrived at such a bad time, and I'm fair enough to admit that most of the homesteaders know that. They acknowledge that fact. Hell, most of them are thankful that the food the newcomers brought with them is so plentiful. It's literally going to save lives.
Still, they ignore the newbies when they encounter them, and the homesteaders refuse to intercede with their more hardcore members in regards to the loud public derision of the newcomers. It's infuriating and distracting at a time when we need to focus out efforts as one.
If I had known what sort of long-term consequences the Richmond soldiers' occupation would have, I would have made it a point to assure they died a lot slower than they did.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Wabbits

Posted by Josh Guess

A little good news this morning. The homesteaders that have been organizing hunting teams had a good run of luck yesterday eight or nine miles away. They went in the direction of Shelbyville, toward one of the farms near my brother's old house. We raided a lot of those places last year, as the crops had been left to rot by the farmers who had fled their land or been killed.
One interesting fact about Kentucky, and I think most states that had historically had a heavy agricultural industry, is that this place is a giant magnet for rabbit populations. Around here they're considered pests, and there was period of time last year when it was all the rage to see who could catch the most of them in the compound.
The zombies moved toward supplementing their diets with animal meat a long time ago, which has helped keep the population low around us and where we farm. That's one of the few advantages of having zombies congregate around centers of human habitation: pest control. It doesn't make up for the danger we face in having the flesh-eating dead surrounding us at all times, but it does add that silver lining.
A lot of the old farms are perfect breeding grounds for bunnies. The soil, so often hard and dense because of the high clay content here, has been worked for generations in most cases. It's soft and fertile, which makes it perfect for bunnies to burrow in. It also means a lot of plants will take root there, including some food plants. The homesteaders brought back two dozen rabbits yesterday, three deer, and a few baskets full of early corn and other assorted vegetables.
It isn't enough to feed us all, but it helps. Everything helps.
The recent tension and troubles haven't been doing any favors for the new folks we brought from Tennessee, but one person the homesteaders hate above all others has been feeling the heat even more. Will Price was already unpopular with that crowd, though many of the people that would become homesteaders had goodwill toward him because of his actions during the occupation by the Richmond soldiers. Now, that's changed, if only because of the strange mob mentality that the homesteaders seem to have.
A few loudmouths start getting people behind them, and the group seems to follow suit. There are always a few who disagree, of course, and it's not exactly a uniform message. There are degrees in the intensity of hate or dislike that most of the homesteaders have been showing to Will. It's actually a pretty wide range. But they're still getting worse because a few people are egging them on, constantly pushing the message that Will is evil, awful, bad.
This, despite the good he's done. Since we took the compound back, Will has been under punishment that frankly I thought he'd try to get away from long ago. Instead he's tried at every turn to do what was best for the people here, and gone far beyond everything that's been asked of him. Some of our best innovations in security and defense are because of him, yet he gets no credit.
Hell, he's even coming up with ideas to stretch our food supplies as far as they can go. He's been working with Patrick all morning on designing and fabricating very large containers to cook in, so we can make huge portions of stew.
That sounds simple, and it is. I'm not talking the five or ten gallon pots we've collected over time, either. So much of what we eat is usually veggies and fruit that we've never really thought of stews and soups on a large scale. Will, though, has been doing some math, figuring out caloric content, and has discovered just why stews were so widely popular for so long.
They've got tons of calories for relatively few ingredients, and you can put just about anything in them and get the nutritional value of whatever you add right there in the pot. Vegetables for vitamins and minerals, meat for fats and protein, water and flour as a base and for carbohydrates (the fuel for bodily energy, after all) and what milk we can spare to add calcium. It's pretty brilliant, and Will says a very efficient way to get an even mixture of all those things into a simple serving. He says it's a far better way to feed people as efficiency goes than the piecemeal way we've been going about it.
All this time, and we're still learning very simple lessons. I just hope the next time we need to learn some basic fact like this, it happens well before we need it. I'm getting worried that we don't have many more last-minute solutions ahead of us.